Last Resort
by whiteraven93
Summary: This fanfic is dead. Please see last chapter for explanation.
1. Prologue

_This is a short little prequel to the actual story. It sets everything up so I don't have to somehow explain how they got where they are while still trying to move the plot forward (this is much harder than it sounds; and if it sounds hard, you understand how hard it _really _is). I will say this now, though: I am well aware that green dragons are genetically sterile, that it is not linked to firestone (despite whatever misguided evidence is provided by Todd's Dragonheart). However, this is my fanfic, so I can bend things to suit me. Deal with it. (Just remember that this is giving you a bit of a preview into the later chapters.) And for those who might get mixed up, the Eighth Interval means after the Eighth Pass and before the Ninth Pass; this is before Holders believed Thread had gone forever._

_**Edit**: Unfortunately, writing stories at one in the morning is bound to result in mistakes; mine was a math error. 200 minus 135 does not equal 15; I have changed it to a difference of 25. Thus, the current Turn for this story is now 175. I apologize profusely and vow to check my math **thoroughly **before publishing any more stories._

_Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is owned by Anne (and Todd) McCaffrey. I own nothing but my own characters and the somewhat dubious plotline and scenarios I have created for them._

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**Prologue: Eighth Interval (****Turn 175)**

A bronze dragon erupted out of _between _to glide lazily down to Benden Weyr's Bowl. His rider, the Weyrleader, dismounted and strode toward the Lower Caverns where his weyrmate would doubtless be. Barely pausing to let his eyes adjust, he barrelled through the room, making three serving girls and one of his blue riders jump out of his way before they were bowled over, to stop at the table where Marilla and her two junior weyrwomen were mending a basket of clothes. As he stood over them, his flight jacket still securely buttoned, their conversation died down.

"B'lan, what's the matter?" Marilla asked hesitantly as she half-rose from her seat.

"I need to speak to you privately," B'lan said brusquely, ignoring the other two queenriders.

Marilla pursed her lips, but followed as he led the way to their private quarters. He was younger than she was by a full twenty Turns, and she much preferred her previous weyrmate's calm indulgence to B'lan's eager, almost desperate, energy. But it had been his bronze to fly her queen when J'frel died. He was Weyrleader now, and she must at least do him the courtesy of listening, even if she worried at the dangerous glint to his eyes. She had seen his temper, even if he had never struck her in the Turn he had been her weyrmate, and she at least knew to be wary of him. She settled herself on the wide bed they shared and watched him pace.

"I've just been to the other Weyrs," he said finally, his expression tight with anger. "Did J'frel never _bother _to try to have his bronze bespeak the other Weyrs? Did _you _never think to?"

B'lan watched her closely, saw the honest confusion in her expression, and had his answer: no. Of course not. If they had, his trip today would not have been such a shock.

"I most certainly did not," Marilla said. "Why ever should I need to? The Weyrs are autonomous; we've no right to be meddling in each other's affairs. I should ask _you _why you visited them without telling me; I would have come."

B'lan snorted.

"_Why _did I visit them?" he asked incredulously. "Marilla, do you realize that Benden Weyr hasn't seen or heard from a single rider or dragon not of Benden since just after the Pass? I've looked through the Records; communication was normal, then it stopped altogether, with no warning. I thought it more than a little suspicious. So I went there with Ritanth, and..."

"And what, B'lan?" Marilla asked, her patience beginning to wear. She knew that B'lan had been a conspiracy-mad child and, for lack of a better word, a foolhardy wingrider who could never follow orders without second-guessing his superiors. She supposed that, now that he didn't have any superiors, he was trying to revert to his scheming child-self. "What did you and Ritanth find?"

"Nothing," he said ominously. "There was nothing, no one, waiting for me. I checked Igen first, but the rest were all the same. Not so much as a wherry in the corral, though Ritanth said tunnel snakes had set up quite comfortably in most of the store rooms. Don't you understand? Benden is the last Weyr on Pern, and Thread is due to return in roughly twenty-five Turns."

At that, B'lan was satisfied to see that Marilla had paled. Good; she was worried. That would make his next proposal easier.

"We can't rely on just Benden to keep all of Pern safe," he continued. "We need to send one of the other queens away."

"What?" Marilla exclaimed. "I've listened to a lot from you, B'lan, but this I cannot ignore. You cannot possibly be considering sending our queens outside of Benden!"

"You know I am," B'lan said. "Don't act as if it were some heinous crime. The Weyrs used to trade queens all the time; it's completely normal."

"If what you say is true," Marilla replied, "then there is absolutely no way I am going to send one of my queens to another Weyr without knowing why they are deserted."

"We have to," B'lan said heatedly. "You know as well as I do that queens clutch fewer eggs when they're in a group. With three queens all in one Weyr, they don't rise as often as they could. At the rate they're laying, there's no possible way to get even one other Weyr up to strength. We need to start the other Weyrs again, Marilla, and we can't do that by keeping all of our queens tucked away here."

"We also can't do that by sending _all _of our queens away," Marilla cut in. "You know as well as I that my Lenith is clutching fewer and fewer eggs. Her flights are farther apart, and Teralth was the last queen she clutched. That was five Turns ago! Lenith is getting old, and we both know she won't be rising for much longer. She won't clutch another queen, either. I won't allow your brashness to endanger the Weyr like this."

"Then send Polika and her Teralth," B'lan offered. "They're young, and you've trained them well for a Weyrwoman's duties. They'd only need a few bronzes and some weyrfolk to get started, and we'd be certain of at least one Weyr the next time Thread falls."

Marilla took a few minutes to think, but B'lan decided that, since she hadn't immediately rejected the idea, it had a chance.

"Which Weyr did you have in mind?" Marilla asked finally.

"High Reaches," B"lan answered. "It's cold, yes, and distant, but it's the western-most Weyr. If we only manage to have High Reaches and Benden, we can cover the far west and the far east separately while joining forces for the midlands. At least until we can resurrect the others."

"Go away, B'lan," Marilla said. "I need to plan. Send me Polika. I'll need to discuss this with her. And not a word to anyone else; I don't want anyone getting anxious before we have a definite way to give them hope."

B'lan nodded quickly and left his Weyrwoman to her resigned planning. He needed to talk to some of his wingleaders about the possibility of a separate Weyrleadership.

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_And there you have it. (Turned out to be not so short.) B'lan is worried about the lack of Weyrs and the (somewhat) imminence of Threadfall, so he sends a queen and some bronzes to High Reaches to resettle. Little does he know that his decision will evolve into something far more interesting and (possibly) dangerous, especially when both Weyrleaders die before passing on their knowledge of the High Reaches Weyr project to their junior Weyrwoman. Polika and the rest have, effectively, dropped _between _without a trace. Stay tuned for the REAL story._

_**Edit**: Unfortunately, writing stories at one in the morning is bound to result in mistakes; mine was a math error. 200 minus 135 does not equal 15; I have changed it to a difference of 25. Thus, the current Turn for this story is now 175. I apologize profusely and vow to check my math **thoroughly **before publishing any more stories._

_Remember: If you read, review. It's great motivation._


	2. Chapter One

_To clarify, this isn't an alternative to any Ninth Pass happenings. Everything with Lessa bringing forward the five Weyrs still stands, but there was a huge gap between the Eighth and Ninth Passes. This is my version of what could have happened (with some fantasizing) when Benden Weyr, expecting another Pass relatively soon, discovers that it's the only Weyr left. The Prologue was also a very minor part (more explanation than anything), so forgive me if I didn't get too detailed or set up the characters with the greatest motivation. B'lan and Marilla are gone now anyway, so no need to worry about them._

_Roughly twenty Turns after the Prologue (now that I have fixed my math). You don't see B'lan or Marilla ever again, because they (and a good portion of Benden Weyr) contracted an illness and died (aren't I cheerful?). Therefore no one knows about High Reaches Weyr. Because B'lan's last message to Polika's queen said not to contact them again until either a new queen was hatched or Marilla's queen contacted them first, the High Reaches Weyr riders have yet to make themselves known to the new Benden Weyrleaders. But Teralth still hasn't clutched a queen egg, and the situation is getting desperate. With Thread rumored to be coming in just five Turns, High Reaches is getting nervous..._

_Disclaimer: Same as Prologue._

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**Chapter One: Eighth Interval (Turn 195)**

Marra kneed her sturdy, long-haired mountain runner up the trace leading to High Reaches Weyr. Even dressed as she was in heavy wherhide and thick furs, she was still shivering from the bitter cold. High Reaches was the coldest of all the Weyrs, but now, in the dead of winter, it was even colder. Travelers not native to the region, unsure of their surroundings and unprepared for such extreme weather, were often discovered frozen to death in the spring. Marra needn't worry about freezing; she had traveled this path her whole life, first with her parents and then alone. However, by the time she came in view of the Weyr's ground entrance, she was more than ready to enjoy a nice, hot bath and curl up under a pile of furs.

"Halt!" a lone sentry called as he readied his spear. "Who goes there?"

"It's just me, Gilryn," Marra answered. "Or can't you recognize your own kin anymore?"

She didn't wonder that her cousin hadn't recognized her. Under all of her thick traveling gear, she became just a lump with eyes. But upon hearing the teasing phrase she always greeted him with, Gilryn lowered his weapon. He waited to speak until she had ridden abreast of him, well aware that sound carried unusually well over the snow-blanketed landscape around them.

"So the wherry hen returns to her nest at last," he teased.

"And a fine welcome my nest has sent for me," Marra said in mock exasperation.

"Most everyone turned out to greet the others," Gilryn mused. "Then again, the others were on time and were expected."

"I'm close enough," Marra protested.

"You're two sevendays late!" Gilryn exclaimed. "And you haven't even brought a candidate back with you."

"No one I met would have Impressed," Marra replied firmly.

"Tell that to the Weyrleaders after the Hatching," Gilryn said softly. "You realize that everyone will blame you if another hatchling goes _between_?"

"At this point, everyone pretty much expects one to," Marra said darkly. "I suppose they'll feel better if they have someone to blame."

Marra had lived her whole life at High Reaches Weyr, and every Hatching she could remember had lost at least one hatchling. The last clutch had lost the most; out of the twenty eggs clutched, four greens and a bronze had gone _between. _A full quarter of the clutch! Actually, no one really wondered that the greens had been lost. Ever since the holders' tendency to hide away their youngsters when dragons were spotted in the sky had forced the Weyrwoman to replace Search dragons with weyrfolk, it had become increasingly difficult to find young boys who would be acceptable to a green hatchling. Holders were raised differently than weyrfolk, and the dragons could tell. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was bad, but it was always necessary to have both holders and weyrfolk to stand for a Hatching. The rate of reproduction in the Weyr was too low to provide all of the candidates, even with as few eggs as Teralth was clutching. As one of the weyrfolk sent to the Holds on Search, it was expected that Marra bring back _someone. _There would be many people angry with her.

"Oh, the Weyrleaders said that you were to go see them as soon as you got back," Gilryn said when Marra began to move further into the tunnel.

Marra only waved to show she had heard; her mood had darkened enough to throw her into a brooding silence. She wondered if Polika would be angry enough with her failure to send her out of the Weyr. It had happened before, when lazy, shiftless men and women had begun taking a noticeable toll on the Weyr's resources. Usually, the threat of banishment was enough, but some needed to have it carried out. Marra hoped that the Weyrwoman wouldn't think she had outlasted her usefulness. The time it took to ride into the Weyr Bowl, settled her runner with proper food and water, and trudge to the Weyrwoman's rooms was no more than it usually was, but Marra's dread slowed her usually indefatigable feet. Finally, she found herself standing outside gold Teralth's weyr. The queen opened one eye as Marra hesitated.

"Ah, you're back," Polika called from the inner weyr. "Come in, child. Teralth won't bite."

Despite hearing the smile in her voice, Marra felt an inner desire to bolt. She gave her head a shake, squared her shoulders, and shoved aside the thick door-hanging that kept out the cold. Polika was seated cross-legged on a thick rug as she pulled a needle and thread through what appeared to be a torn tunic. Though glows were placed in carefully spaced wall alcoves, a fire had been laid for additional warmth and light. Smiling as she stood, Polika gestured Marra further into the room.

"Ooh, you look frozen to the bone," she said with a shudder. "It looks like the sentry took my message a bit too literally."

She grinned wryly, and Marra felt herself grinning in response. The Weyrwoman'snotorious good humor was working its magic on her, and the warmth from the fire was bringing the feeling back into her hands and cheeks. She sat on the thickly stuffed couch at Polika's bidding, intensely grateful when the other woman shouted down the wall chute for hot klah from the kitchen. When the klah had arrived and both women had taken their first sips, Polika turned to her with a thoughtful expression.

"You didn't find a candidate," she stated simply.

Marra shook her head sadly, though her fear of banishment had faded in response to Polika's kindness. To her surprise, though, Polika smiled.

"This might actually work to our advantage," she said mischievously. "Marra, we're getting closer and closer to another Pass, but Teralth's clutches aren't getting any bigger, like they're supposed to. She hasn't clutched a single queen since we came here. S'por and I agreed that we can't take the risk of something happening to Teralth and there not being another clutching dragon in High Reaches. We may have come from Benden, but High Reaches is our home _now."_

Marra nodded. Her parents had talked often of Benden Weyr when she was a child, but she had been born and bred to the High Reaches. No matter where they had come from, High Reaches was home to everyone in the Weyr.

"That's why we've decided to try something we've all been cautioned against since anyone can remember," Polika continued, a serious glint coming into her eyes. "Marra, we've seen how you act around the dragons and riders as well as the weyrfolk. People seek your advice, your approval, even your criticism, and they do it almost without thinking. S'por and I, we are the Weyrleaders, but we aren't the Weyr's only leaders. You were born here, among dragons. The riders and the weyrfolk all know you. You know all about the running of a Weyr and the health of a dragon from being raised with it all. You've sat in on weyrling classes every season since you could toddle. The candidates you bring back _always _Impress. You have all the qualities we look for in a dragonrider. That's why S'por and I have decided that if we're going to let a green grow up to clutch, then we want you to be her rider."

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_Whew. This took a long time to update. I'm actually wondering whether or not I should have continued this a bit longer, to show Marra's shock, joy, etc., but I think the next chapter will do fine with that. So, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing (mostly). As stated in the Prologue, I _know _greens are genetically sterile. I _know. _But for the sake of my inner mushy-self, put logic aside and go with it._

_As always, if you've read this far, please review. No matter what it is you have to say, I love to hear it. It's very motivational. Also, the rate of chapter-publication is dependent on the number of reviews. If I don't get at least one new review, the story is stuck! (Not really, but please do review.)_


	3. Chapter Two

_Many thanks for the reviews, and an apology for my long author's notes. However, I myself like to read author's notes so I can get a better feel for the author herself. So I will probably keep mine. Also, there was simply too much information between the Prologue and Chapter one that I was unable to incorporate easily into the actual story. I prefer to keep all my installments between about 1000 and 2000 words, and incorporating the extra info into the story so that it worked would have pushed me over that limit (and taken way too much time to write). Basically, I didn't feel like it._

_Disclaimer: Same as Prologue_

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**Chapter Two**

Two days after Marra's candidacy was announced to the Weyr, she began to tire of the looks thrown her way. The dragonriders mostly knew better than to be openly hostile, but the other candidates were not so kind. The holdbred glared and jostled her in the corridors, and the weyrbred, who had been her friends since childhood, averted their eyes when she walked into the same room. No one spoke to her, and conversations would suddenly break off when she came within hearing distance. Even though Marra knew Polika was giving her a great honor, she was still resentful that no one would know the reason she had been named a candidate until after her green's first mating flight (provided she Impressed at all).

"I don't want them pressuring you," Polika had said, S'por nodding sagely in the background. "It happens all the time before a queen's first flight. In the months beforehand, bronzeriders will try to sway your preference, some more forcefully than others. They become very competitive with each other, too, and fights can break out if we're not careful. If everyone knows what we have planned, those tensions will leak over to the blue and brown riders as well. You'll have nearly half the Weyr's riders trying to make you choose _him _while competing with the others for your favor_._"

"But isn't it better if I already have someone in mind?" Marra asked hesitantly.

"Most dragons and riders have a preference," S'por said. "Sometimes they coincide, sometimes not. But those preferences need to be freely chosen, not coerced. Such pairings are usually hard on everyone involved, and they tend not to last long. With this situation, we'd prefer a fairly stable relationship, just as we would for any queen pairings."

"In addition, we don't want the riders getting too competitive," Polika added. "This will be the first time the blues and browns will have the opportunity to pass on their genes, and the riders will be even more anxious to have their dragon succeed. If they know the prize" - and here she sneered a bit at how a male was likely to see the situation - "beforehand, they'll all harbor resentment toward the rider whose dragon catches yours. We're not going to risk that."

Marra had understood and agreed with that reasoning. She certainly didn't want to be the cause of disruption throughout the Weyr. But she still hated being ostracized before she'd even Impressed. Would she have to endure such treatment through all the Turns before that first crucial flight? She grimaced at the thought, pausing just outside the entrance to her personal quarters in the Lower Cavern. P'zan, the Weyrlingmaster, had invited her to stay with the other candidates in the appropriate barracks, but she had declined. The others couldn't stand to look at her; they would surely protest her being housed with them.

"Are you going to just stand there like a lump?" someone asked caustically from behind her.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she said quickly, moving to one side of the hall.

Even with the dim glowlight, Shemodon was easily recognizable. He was among the small collection of Telgar holders who had been Searched, and he was easily the most liked by the Weyr's women. He was tall, light-skinned, and very handsome for a boy of only sixteen Turns. His intelligence and quick wits had many riders favoring him for a bronze, but Marra privately thought not. As he walked past her, an ugly sneer marring his face, Marra wondered if he was meeting with one of the prettier weyrboys again. He must have a knack for choosing discreet bedmates because Marra had never heard anyone disillusion the kitchen girls when they sighed over him. No, that boy had "blue rider" stamped all across his forehead.

Chuckling slightly about her observations, Marra made her way to the Dining Cavern in hopes of snaggin a few meatrolls before she had to speak with P'zan. The brownrider had promised to give her a few "helpful tips," as he put it, and she didn't want her stomach grumbling during the middle of his informal lecture. It was almost time fore the midday meal, and Marra knew the Weyrlingmaster well enough that she was certain they wouldn't break for food. As she reached for a roll, a thick, muscled hand caught her wrist.

"Not so fast, lass," P'zan said as he began dragging her out to the Bowl.

"But we'll miss the midday meal!" Marra protested, showing herself every bit the child of her seventeen Turns. "I'm hungry!"

"Precisely," P'zan replied with a smile. "That is what I'm going to be addressing in a few minutes."

As soon as he was sure Marra was following on her own, P'zan released her and continued on to the Hatching Ground. Marra was relieved when they entered the sand-filled cavern where Teralth was curled protectively around her thirteen eggs; the heat that was uncomfortable in summer was quite pleasant now, with the icy winds howling all through the Weyr.

"Okay," she prompted when her stomach rumbled.

"When did you last eat?" P'zan asked.

"This morning, at breakfast."

"You're fairly hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. You wouldn't let me eat." She glared accusingly at him.

"How hungry are you now?" P'zan asked as he pulled a steaming meatroll out of his jacket pocket.

"That's just mean!" Marra cried as her stomach protested.

"It is," P'zan agreed, tossing her the roll. "But think how hungry you'd be if you hadn't eaten since last night or yesterday morning. That's how these dragonets will feel when they hatch. They'll look for you first, but they'd better find you right quick. They'll have eaten everything inside that egg almost two days before they hatch; they're only going to get hungrier."

Marra nodded as she bit into the hot roll. Warm juices dripped to the sands, the smell enticing her further. In moments, the roll was gone, and Marra tried not to look hopefully at P'zan for another. He grinned.

"Just one roll won't fill your belly," he said. "Likewise, you'll need more than one or two bowls of meat to sate your dragon. You can imagine how hungry she'll be. You'll know exactly what she wants. She'll recognize that you, out of all the other candidates, won't have to be reminded of her hunger. You'll feed her faster, and you'll understand her better."

"So...that's it?" Marra asked. "Just think of food? Of meat?"

She was skeptical, even as P'zan looked toward the clutch, a small frown tugging at his lips.

"That's what I did," he admitted. "Portith said that's one of the reasons he liked me best."

Marra would have laughed, but at that moment, Teralth lifted her head and began to hum deep in her throat. Outside, other dragons followed her cue.

"I thought so," P'zan murmered. "Looks like you made it home just in time."

It took less than two minutes for the Hatching Ground to begin filling with weyrfolk, dragonriders, and candidates. When Marra made to leave, very aware of her lack of the traditional white robe, P'zan held her back. He informed her that he would have one of the riders from Teralth's last clutch (who were out of his weyrling classes but not by long enough that they wouldn't do as he asked) would bring her one. It took almost a quarter hour for the twenty-three other candidates to arrive, and another half hour for the rest of the Weyr's people to arrive. Just as P'zan had said, a blue rider solicitously handed her a white garment as he made his way toward the spectator tiers. Then, suddenly, there were only candidates on the sands. Several eggs were rocking sporadically, and the mature dragons clinging precariously to ledges above their human partners were humming encouragingly to their new brothers and sisters. Their eyes glowed brilliant blue and green, accurately reflecting the mood of both dragons and weyrfolk. Marra hurriedly shrugged into her robe, trying not to notice Shemodon to her left. The other candidates were ignoring her, but she decided that now it was more because they were so focused on the eggs in front of them. After all, eleven of the youngsters here would not Impress; there was too much at stake to worry about the one interloping female.

The dragons' humming increased and very suddenly stopped. In the resulting silence, a sharp _craaack! _could be clearly heard. Everyone held their breath as a brown wing punched a hole in the now-fragile shell, followed by a wedge-shaped head as the infant dragonet struggled out of its casing. It lifted its still-wet head, looking left and right for its partner, and suddenly cried out joyously. Marra recognized the boy who leapt forth as Tolonin, one of the weyrbred boys. He called out Shireth's name, unaware that several more eggs were rocking violently and six had cracks in them. One by one, the dragons emerged from their eggs and Impressed. Brown, blue, and green hides dominated the small clutch; only one bronze emerged. Cheers went up the crowd at each Impression, even when a spritely little blue chose Sh'modon as his rider. Finally, only one egg was left. Some of the candidates (the remaining holdbred) had dejected looks on their faces already, but the dragons' humming had not abated since starting up after the first egg cracked. Marra thought it had an excited, eager pitch to it, but perhaps that was her own excitement clouding her judgement.

This last egg's rocking became sporadic; five moments were counted between jerks, then four and three. Finally, a jagged line appeared on the mottled shell. Marra's neighbors were holding their breath, but she had never seen the purpose of that. Instead, on a whim, she thought of meat. She imagined the red, bloody globules that she had seen the other new riders feeding their dragons. She imagined she could smell that metallic smell of blood, could feel the crimson flesh squishing between her fingers. She thought of the many bowls of meat it would take to fill up such a hungry creature. Her own hunger was foremost in her mind, so she knew that a new dragon would be feeling even hungrier. She wanted nothing more than to stop that hunger in any way possible. She tried not to think that the odds of this dragon being green was three to one against. The dragonet suddenly jerked spasmodically, sending shards of shell in every direction. The infant didn't even pause; the little green made a beeline dash for Marra, mewling hungrily.

_Marra! _she cried happily. _Oh, you know to feed me. You know how hungry your Elliath is. Oh, you'll make my stomach stop hurting now._

Marra was dimly aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks as she gestured quickly for the bowls of meat being held by older riders. As she quickly deposited lumps of red, dripping herdbeast into Elliath's open mouth, she showered the little creature with praise and love and reassurances that, yes, she was the most brilliant, beautiful dragon ever hatched. Because to Marra, she was.

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_There you have it. Marra Impressed green Elliath (as you all knew she would), but that's just the beginning. Stay tuned for the next installment._

_As always, if you have read this far, please review. It is great motivation and much appreciated. Thank you, and I hope you liked this as much as I did._


	4. Chapter Three

_I'm very pleased to present the third chapter of Last Resort. I've actually been writing two chapters for later in the story, so hopefully those should get up pretty soon. I have one completely done, but keep in mind that it's not the next chapter. I can't just go around skipping two Turns for convenience. There will be at least one more chapter after this one before I add in the chapter I have completed now. Also, I'm not publishing a new chapter until someone reviews this one. :P That's how it goes, so if you want more, you better get reviewing. (I'm personally anxious to get to the clutching scene, so review! Review!)_

_Note: I used /weyrlinghood/month1/lesson-dragon-anatomy as my source for the later bit of this chapter. You'll know which. I used the wing diagram posted there._

_Disclaimer: Same as always. Not mine...etc. etc...author takes all credit...blah blah._

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**Chapter 3: (About Two Months Later)**

"All right, weyrlings," P'zan told the assembled youngsters. "It's been two months since Impression. Your dragons are starting get out of the phase where all they do is eat and sleep, so now we can get on with your lessons. Everyone get into three groups - let's have groups of four, four, and five - and I'll need three of your dragons to volunteer. Sitenth, Elliath, and Jelth should do nicely."

As the weyrlings all gathered around the volunteered dragonets, each boy pairing with his own dragon (and Marra with hers), three slightly older riders stepped forward. By their shoulder knots, Marra identified them as a brownrider and two blueriders. Each boy took a place next to a group, greeting the weyrling with a friendly smile. Some of the weyrlings (namely the holdbred boys) shuffled their feet and avoided the newcomers, but Marra saw some greeting them as the old friends they were. In a Weyr, everyone knew pretty much everyone else, so it was unusual if the new weyrlings didn't know any of their new comrades.

"Now, these riders all Impressed from the clutch before yours," P'zan said, his voice carrying easily to every set of ears. "You'll see B'stol over with Jelth, A'vern is with Sitenth, and L'valler is there by Elliath. They're here as my assistants, and they'll be helping you with your lessons. If you have a question, ask them. If you don't hear something or don't understand, ask them. That goes for outside of class, as well. They might not be as eager to help, but at least they'll know it was me who told you to ask."

P'zan smiled around at his weyrling, his gaze lingering only for an instant on Marra, as they chuckled at his joke. He was glad that they had finally mellowed to Marra presence among them. His lessons for the few days after Impression (for the unlucky candidates, as well) focused on the fact that the dragon _always _chose the right person. No one knew what made that person "right" or this person "wrong," but the boys had apparently come to terms that Elliath would not have chosen anyone else, even if Marra had not been presented as a candidate. In the best case scenario, she would have nosed the girl out of wherever she was in the Weyr. In the worst case, she would have gone _between. _P'zan wondered for a brief instant if some of those other greens lost in past Hatchings had been looking for girls that hadn't been presented. He mentally shook himself as the laughter died down.

"Today's lesson will be on anatomy," he went on. "Everyone watch what I'm doing, because you'll have a quiz on this tomorrow. You'll have to name the appropriate muscle, bone, tendon, or anything else and point to it on your own dragon, so pay attention. B'stol, A'vern, L'valler. You three go over the weyrlings while I'm teaching, please. I'll ask you about them later. Now, Portith, if you would..."

As the larger brown settled next to his partner, stretching his neck around for closer inspection, the three assistants began running their hands lightly over green, blue, and bronze hides. Marra tried not to grin as Elliath craned her neck around to keep L'valler - the brownrider, Marra noted - in her sights. His hands skimmed over neck, forearms, whithers, sides, hind legs, and tail. He gently opened and closed her wings, testing the flexibility of her joints and the young, undeveloped strength of her wing membrane. Soon, he had finished going over the green dragonet, but it seemed to Marra that he was reluctant to leave her be.

"She likes her chin scratched," Marra said quietly, demonstrating by scratching at the small, soft hollow just under the jaw, where there was only flesh and not bone. "Most dragons prefer the eye ridges, but she likes this better."

Indeed, Elliath's eyes were half-closed and swirling with the bright green and blue of contentment and happiness. L'valler took over the caress, not surprised that Elliath didn't notice.

"Shouldn't you be listening to P'zan?" he asked, gesturing with his free hand to the other enrapt weyrlings.

"I've heard this lesson since I was old enough to wander the Weyr unsupervised," Marra replied. "I always wormed my way into weyrling lessons; if you'll remember, I probably attended a few of yours, too. P'zan's first lesson is always anatomy, so I've been going over everything with Elliath for the past few sevendays."

L'valler snorted with amusement, covering his mouth quickly and turning it into a rough cough.

_Why'd you stop? _Elliath asked immediately, her eyes snapping open again. Her tone was devastated. _It felt good._

"Silly girl," Marra told her softly. "L'valler was scratching you, not me. He was, er, coughing."

_Oh, _Elliath replied, having completely zoned out as soon as she felt the desired touch. _Why did he stop, though?_

"It's polite to cover your mouth when you cough," Marra replied.

_What if I cough? I can't cover my mouth!_

Marra laughed, unable to help herself. The other three weyrlings in her group glanced her way, and she hastily smothered her reaction. L'valler raised one eyebrow.

"She was worrying about not being able to cover her mouth if she coughs," Marra explained.

"No worries," L'valler said, directing his words at the young dragon. "Dragons don't cough. Well, if they do, no one minds that they can't cover their mouths."

Elliath's look of relief was so comical, both Marra and L'valler burst out laughing.

"L'valler! Marra!"

They looked up sheepishly to face P'zan. The entire class was silent as P'zan walked toward rider and weyrling. Marra would have cowered had the Weyrlingmaster been anyone else, but P'zan was, in all but harper-witnessed law, her adoptive father. She had grown up in his company after her father's death when she was six. When pneumonia had taken her mother from her four Turns later, she was practically attached to him at the wrist. He effectively replaced the foster-mother that other children had. She stood up a little straighter and looked him boldly in the eye.

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster?" she said politely.

"Is there something you would like to share with the rest of us?" P'zan asked softly, his appearance intimidating. Perhaps only Marra noticed the amused glint in his eyes.

"No, sir," L'valler said, forestalling any cheeky reply Marra might have had.

P'zan looked pointedly at Marra.

"No, sir," she said meekly.

"Then, greenrider, will you please tell me what this is?"

P'zan gestured to the outermost fingerbone of Elliath's wing. Marra managed not to smile. That was easy.

"The spar bone," she answered confidently. "It is comprised of two separate bones that are nearly fused together and provide extra support for the entire forestay tip, most noticeably the fingersail, here. This provides stability in flight and aids in manueverability."

As Marra pointed out the appropriate areas, she saw several other weyrlings staring in awe. Some simply hadn't been paying attention, and the information was just going right over the heads of the others. L'valler looked impressed; he obviously hadn't believed her when she said she knew the lesson already. P'zan nodded, looking severe.

"Well done, weyrling," he said. "Hm. It's about time for the midday meal. Let's leave things as they are for today. I'll quiz you tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is yours. Go. Get your dagons fed and oiled, finish your chores. And study those bones I showed you!"

With a brusque nod of his head to the class and a private smile for Marra, P'zan made his way to the Dining Cavern, Portith leaping skyward to return to his ledge. L'valler sighed exaggeratedly.

"That was close," he said. "You really know your stuff."

"Of course," Marra replied. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

Marra stopped, suddenly aware that she probably shouldn't have said that. Polika had gone to such trouble to make sure the Weyr thought Marra was only made a candidate because she hadn't found anyone on Search, but here she'd almost blown it! L'valler was looking at her strangely. Marra felt her face pale. L'valler had just opened his mouth to speak when three of the other weyrlings surrounded them, congratulating Marra on her performance with P'zan and asking if she wanted to eat with them. Marra feigned an apologetic smile at L'valler and walked off with her peers, Elliath following eagerly behind. She regretted leaving the brownrider like that, but she simply couldn't afford to blow the Weyrleaders' plans. She hoped that she would be paired with him again for the next weyrling lesson. He was nice to talk to.

* * *

_Kind of strange how it ends, but it works. I hope you enjoyed._

_As always, if you've read this far, please review. I'm not posting another chapter until I get at least one new review._


	5. Chapter Four

_Thank you all for the reviews! I was so happy to get them. And congratulations to _Renegade Elementalist_, for picking up on the fact that Elliath's favorite place to be scratched is a distinct feline trait (specifically taken from my green-eyed black cat, DJ - he's the best)._

_Here we go with the next installment. I hope you all enjoy Chapter four. Sorry for the time I've skipped over from Chapter three toChapter four, but do you really want to read about enough boring weyrling lessons to cover a whole Turn? I didn't think so. Besides, nothing in the Turn would really have moved the plot forward any. This will. I hope you don't get too confused. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Same as always._

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**Chapter 4: Eighth Interval (Turn 196)**

_What's that? _Elliath asked excitedly, nosing the odd, leather contraption in Marra's hands. _Is it for me? Can I eat it?_

Marra laughed and pushed the green muzzle away. The dragonet had expanded rapidly in the Turn since her hatching, and, indeed, she could no longer be called a dragonet. As the second-largest green in her clutch, Elliath was a true dragon...almost. Neither she nor her clutchmates had begun flaming yet, though the other weyrlings were anxious to start. Marra wondered how Polika and S'por planned to face that hurdle. After all, if their plan was to succeed, Elliath could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to chew firestone. What excuse could she give for keeping Elliathfrom flaming with the others? Well, that was a task for another day. P'zanhad said they weren't going to start training with firestone until after all of the dragons were flying, which should be soon.

"No, you can't eat it," Marra replied tolerantly. "This is a harness for you to wear while you practice flying."

_Why do I need it?_

"So that when P'zan says it's time," Marra said, noticing other weyrlingsanswering similar queries from their dragons, "I will be strapped into the harness. That way I won't fall off. You have to learn to fly with the harness before you fly me."

_Oh. That makes sense, I suppose. So, I'll practice today and fly you tomorrow._

"We'll see," Marra chuckled, knowing that they would probably repeat this process for the next few days. "Now, let's get this harness on you."

Elliath couldn't help prancing about and craning her head around as Marra attempted to buckle the various straps. Marra knew exactly which straps went where and how far to tighten them (she should after nearly two sevendays of the excerise), but Elliath's short memory left her seeing the task as new and exciting every morning. P'zan had assured everyone, and his temporary assistants (L'valler, A'vern, and B'stol) agreed, that they would eventually become so desensitized to the procedure and accustomed to the harness that they wouldn't fuss as much. To judge by the way brown Shireth, bronze Jelth, and the other two browns were calmly submitting to the harnessing, the larger dragons' memory was just that little bit longer. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long before the blues and greens calmed down.

"How's it coming?" a voice asked as Marra was giving the leather a final tug.

She turned and grinned at L'valler. He didn't have to come to every lesson anymore, but she found him hanging around more and more often, conveniently when she needed help or someone to talk to. While the other weyrlings had accepted her and she was friends with them, Marra found herself valuing L'valler's friendship more and more. It helped that his brown dragon, Chith, who was lounging a few dragonlengths away, took the time to speak with Elliath almost daily. The two were becoming close, and Marra was glad that she was showing interest in at least one dragon outside of her clutchmates. She still had at least a full Turn to expand her relationships with the older dragons before she was due to rise, but that didn't mean Marra didn't worry periodically that she would choose one of the seven males of her group. She didn't know how she would face whichever of her peers she found in her bed afterwards, though she was rational enough to know that shouldn't matter one bit whose dragon flew Elliath. All that mattered was the end result, and that was a long time away. Now she needed to focus on Elliath.

"I think I've got it," she replied amiably. "How's it feel, dear heart?"

_It feels fine. A little tight on the right shoulder but not very._

To make her point, Elliath flexed her right foreleg and half opened her wing. The leather pulled in response, but when Marra felt it, knowing that dragons tended to overestimate their tolerance and strength, it seemed no tighter than the rest of the straps. She frowned.

"It's not tight, Elliath," she said, confusion clear in her tone. "Is something the matter with your shoulder?"

"Here, let me," L'valler said, reaching forward to feel both the straps and the green hide underneath. "No, the straps are just right. I don't feel any heat, and her muscles don't seem strained or knotted."

"Weyrlings, line up!" P'zan called from the front of the group, interrupting Marra and L'valler's examination. "From right to left, largest to smallest, bronze, brown, blue, green. You've all been working on getting your dragons harnessed for a half month, so you should sharding well know by now if it's on right." He fixed each of the thirteen riders with a firm look as they all lined up, L'valler hesitant to leave Elliath's side. "You've been working hard, and now you're going to be rewarded. Today, your dragons are going to fly."

Amid the joyous shouts and exultant bugling, Marra and L'valler exchanged anxious looks. Neither was sure that Elliath should be flying if she was complaining (however slightly) that a perfect harness was too tight. Slowly, the noise died down and P'zan continued.

"Let's start with Jelth. D'tral, please remove Jelth's harness. He'll have to fly without it today. Now, Jelth, spring aloft and fly up to the height of, say, Portith's weyr. Then circle around and glide back down. All right? Get on with it, then."

D'tral did as he was told, stepping back so that he would not be buffeted too much by his bronze's takeoff. The weyrlings all looked on eagerly as Jelth shook out his wings, leapt into the air, and made the first crucial, powerful downsweep of his wings. He climbed higher and higher, overjoyed to finally be in the air. He reached the prescribed height, dipped one wing, and came back in for a landing, making the ground quiver slightly as it took his weight again. The weyrlings cheered, and D'tral thumped his dragon's shoulder happily.

"Well done, Jelth," he cried. "Great flying!"

Then the others had their turns. One by one, the browns and blues had their harnesses removed and flew up to the height of Portith's weyr before gliding back down. As green Fonmath leapt into the air to take her take, Marra wondered what she would do. Elliath was supposed to fly next.

"How's your right shoulder?" she asked quietly.

Elliath rustled her right wing before turning her head back to her rider.

_Still tight, _she admitted.

Marra pressed her lips together, deciding. There was really only one thing left to do. She caught L'valler's gaze as Fonmath touched down and shook her head slightly.

"Marra, take off Elliath's harness," P'zan called as he had for the others. "Send her up to Portith's weyr and back."

Marra took a deep breath to steel herself.

"I don't think Elliath should fly today," she said clearly, acutely aware of her partner's astonishment and disappointment.

The weyrlings began to murmur amongst themselves, but L'valler looked relieved. P'zan frowned.

"Why is that?" he asked, coming forward to stand by Marra at Elliath's right shoulder.

"She says the harness is tight on her right shoulder when it's not," Marra explained. "I double-checked, and L'valler checked. There's no heat, no swelling, no strained or knotted muscle."

She didn't say "I don't know what's wrong and I'm worried," but the sentiment was there. P'zan ran his hands over Elliath's hide, becoming the third person in nearly an hour to check the green dragon over as the other weyrlings and dragons watched. He frowned and shook his head.

"You're right," he said. "There's nothing wrong with her. Portith confirms that she's says there's tightness, but I can't feel it. Take the harness off and see how she feels."

Marra complied, and was gratified to see Elliath roll her shoulder to stretch it.

"Better?" she asked.

_Yes, I think so._

P'zan nodded, getting the gist of her answer from the combination of relief and confusion apparent on Marra's face.

"She says she's fine now, so let's send her up," he said, motioning Marra to step back with him. "To Portith's weyr and back. If she feels any tightness or pain, she's come straight back, no matter how high she is."

Marra nodded nervously, but gave Elliath the go-ahead. The dragon eagerly shook out her wings, leaped, and made her first downstroke. As Elliath climbed, Marra had her heart in her throat. In any other situation, she would have been overjoyed to see her dragon flying for the first time, but now...she just didn't know if it was safe. She knew that P'zan had been a dragonrider longer than she'd been alive. He wouldn't put one of his weyrlings in danger for any reason, but he also wouldn't hold them back for no reason.

Elliath was almost to the limit when it seemed like her right wing was wrenched up in the middle of her downstroke, sending her careening to the left. For a moment, the weyrlings urged the dragon to right herself, but Marra shouted a warning from the first moment her dragon faltered. Elliath was desperately trying to bring her wing back to a position that would level her out, but in an instant was tumbling through the air toward the ground. Dragons all around the Weyr bugled a warning, but one took that extra step and launched itself into the air. Brown Chith was beating his wings furiously, just barely able to get himself beneath Elliath's falling, panicked body so that he could stabilize her and ease her down to the ground. Marra was running toward their landing spot, P'zan and L'valler following with the whole weyrling class in tow, almost before Chith had eased the smaller green off his back. Both dragons' eyes were whirling with red and orange fire, but Elliath's were tinged with the grey of pain. Marra took her dragon's head in her arms, stroking her cheeks, scratching her chin and eye ridges, and babbling wordless reassurances while P'zan and L'valler moved to examine her right wing. Marra heart sank at the dark look on P'zan face. That didn't bode well. Not at all.

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_Cliff-hanger! Haven't given you one of these in a while, but it's time for me to get to bed. Tune in next time for the exciting conclusion of "What in Hell Happened to Elliath's Wing"!_

_As always, if you've read this far, please review. It's great motivation and it gets the next chapter out that much faster._


	6. Chapter Five

_That last bit went in a completely different direction I thought it would, but it's coming together really nicely. Here's the conclusion (to the cliff-hanger, not the story). I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reviewing. ^_^_

_Disclaimer: The same as always._

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**Chapter 5: Eighth Interval (Turn 196)**

"And you let her fly?" Polika asked coldly when P'zan had related the events leading up to Elliath's disastrous flight.

"Yes, Weyrwoman," P'zan replied demurely.

"Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do!" Polika shouted, far from the good-natured, optimistic woman she was normally. "You've been a Weyrlingmaster too long to make such a weyrling mistake, P'zan. What were you thinking? I should put you on watch duty for this!"

Everyone in the weyr flinched. Polika took the safety of her queen's offspring very seriously, but this really was over the top. S'por wondered idly if Teralth was getting ready to mate again. That could account for some of his mate's ferocity today. Although, he, too, was appalled that Elliath had been encouraged to fly after such a strange report. Tightness while wearing a perfectly placed harness was odd enough that P'zan should not only have kept the green grounded but alerted the Weyrhealer immediately. S'por decided that, yes, Polika had every right to be reacting the way she was. However, she should not be letting her emotions get the best of her while they were all crammed into Elliath's weyr.

"Calm down, dear heart," S'por said kindly, putting a restraining hand on the enraged woman's shoulder. "There are others here who don't deserve your wrath."

He nodded his head pointedly to where Marra was sitting dazedly by her dragon's head. The girl was in shock, stroking Elliath's cheek while tears coursed silently down her face. A few of the older browns had flown into the Snowy Wastes for ice to reduce the swelling, but Elliath's right side was still larger than her left. The green wasn't in any pain thanks to the numbweed salve coating her wing joint, shoulder, and most of her whithers, but it was obvious that she would be a long time recovering. The updraft that had sent her off course had been strong, and the muscle was, apparently, too weak to cope. Polika wasn't likely to allow the dragon in the air for another two or three months at least, which would surely grate on Marra's nerves. Or maybe not, considering how distraught she was now.

Polika sighed angrily and turned away from the depressing sight.

"Watch duty until Elliath is flying," she shot at P'zan.

With another glare, she stormed out of the weyr, immensely glad that Elliath was using a ground-level weyr. Granted, she couldn't move to one of the higher weyrs now anyway, thanks to P'zan, but Polika had to grateful for small mercies. Shards, but she would be glad when Teralth rose! These absurd mood swings were so annoying. One moment she was perfectly content, the next she was raging and shouting. What next? Tears? Oh, shards. S'por tactfully did not mention the wetness on his weyrmate's cheeks.

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Marra barely noticed when the Weyrleaders left, followed shortly by the Weyrlingmaster. P'zan... Marra didn't know if she blamed him, though L'valler certainly did. After Elliath was back on the ground, making heartrending noises of pain, P'zan had quickly diagnosed a wrenched wing and pulled muscle. A weyrling had been sent for the Weyrhealer, L'valler's Chith alerted Teralth. By the time healer Velasic had smothered the affected area with numbweed and announced that the "muscle pull" was actually a muscle tear, the entire Weyr knew what had happened. News of Polika's dressing down the Weyrlingmaster would spread just as quickly.

And after all that, Elliath was still injured and still grounded.

Marra sniffed noisily as the mucus in her nose threatened to drip onto her tunic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw L'valler proffer a square of white, plainly embroidered linen. She took it mechanically and blew her nose. She didn't know when she'd started crying, but she hadn't stopped. It would do no good to dry her face when more tears would come moments later. L'valler sat on the low bench next to her and placed one arm around her shoulders.

"It'll be all right," he whispered, holding her close. "I promise."

A gentle croon from the just outside the weyr bolstered that statement.

"Chith says so, too," L'valler said. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up and down to dinner. We've missed the midday meal in all the fuss."

Silently, Marra shook her head. She stroked Elliath's cheek again, not seeming to care that the dragon, numbed to the pain, was deeply asleep.

"She'll be fine," L'valler promised. "Chith will keep watch while you eat."

_I will tell you the moment she wakes. Be easy and eat. For L'valler. For Elliath._

The shock of having another rider's dragon spreak to her was enough to get Marra up and moving...sort of. She seemed just able to shuffle about if L'valler guided her. He kept up a running stream of encouragement as he helped her, after only slight hesitation, to bathe and dress in a soft, green dress that he thought accentuated her natural beauty. He couldn't do anything about the red, puffy eyes or dripping nose, but he at least managed to brush her short, dark brown hair so that it framed her face neatly. Armed with pockets full of clean handkerchiefs, L'valler led her out of the weyr and down to the Dining Cavern. When they came in view, a shout came up from the direction of the weyrling table.

"Marra!" D'tral called. "Over here."

L'valler guided the girl toward D'tral and sat her down, motioning for one of the serving drudges to bring some of whatever the kitchen was serving. The group of weyrlings all gathered closer around the two as L'valler settled next to her. They all started talking at once.

"How bad is she...?"

"Did the Weyrwoman really shout at P'zan...?"

"Are you going to keep up with the weyrling lessons...?"

"When will Elliath get to try flying again...?"

Marra ignored the questions, barely acknowledging the people around her. Slowly, they turned back to their own conversations, shooting worried, pitying glances at her. Marra sighed and poked at the bowl of hearty stew in front of her. One asked her nervously if she was feeling ill.

"Don't bother," Sh'modon said loudly. "It's obvious she's just faking it for attention."

L'valler felt an immediate rush of anger, but, before he could challenge the younger boy, D'tral and the others shouted him down.

"He's just bitter because she's a girl," D'tral said.

L'valler nodded, understanding completely. Blue and green riders tended to prefer boys, and that tendency usually spilled over into a prejudice towards women. He knew that well enough, so he wasn't quite certain why he had felt such anger when Sh'modon voiced such a blatant insult.

"His loss," he muttered.

Marra blinked slowly and, at L'valler's urging, spooned some stew into her mouth. She had to admit that it was good, perfectly spiced and filled with tasty meat and homegrown vegetables, but the liquid dropped with a hollow thud into her stomach. She thought of the pain that Elliath was now spared, and felt a queasy twinge of nausea. She dropped the spoon into her bowl and pushed it away. What was she doing eating when she should be with Elliath? L'valler tried to stop her when she stood to leave, but she gently took her wrist from his grasp and shook her head.

"I'll be fine," she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

She just couldn't stand to be away from her dragon. The walk to her new weyr, granted early on account of Elliath's injury, wasn't long, but she still ran the last few hundred meters. Chith's brown body was settled comfortably on the ledge, his head turned towards Elliath's sleeping form.

_She still sleeps and feels no pain, _Chith reported solicitously.

Marra murmured a thanks as she walked past him into the weyr. She was halfway to her rough bench before she realized that someone had opened some of the glowbaskets and was standing quietly in their light. She paused, and Polika took it upon herself to close the distance between them. She gently pressed the younger girl to a sitting position.

"I'm sorry for my outburst earlier," the Weyrwoman said, ignoring Marra's denial. "I've had some time to think things through. I'm removing P'zan as Weyrlingmaster. He's a good rider, but his talent with the weyrlings has slowly been slipping. This was the last straw. J'lir will be taking over tomorrow."

"Wouldn't I have figured this out tomorrow when J'lir showed up instead of P'zan?" Marra asked, slightly confused.

Polika shook her head.

"You won't be going to the weyrling lessons," she said. "Until Elliath is healed, there's nothing you could learn that you haven't already heard before. You'll resume training with the next batch of weyrlings. Teralth is going to rise in a few days, so by the time Elliath's healed, we'll have another clutch on the sands. Until then, you'll have your hands full with taking care of your dragon. You'll also be working as my personal assistant."

A switch clicked in Marra's mind suddenly.

"So, she'll miss firestone training," she said slowly.

Polika smiled.

"That's right," she replied. "And no one will think to question that decision. By the time she's ready to rise, Elliath will have yet to flame, and we'll be able to continue happily. This is what we call making the best of a bad situation."

"Thank you, Polika," Marra said with feeling, starting to shake off some of her lethargy.

Elliath stirred slightly, her tail twitching in pre-wakefulness. Polika took a few steps towards the exit.

"I'll leave you to her, then," she said before exiting the weyr.

_Marra? _Elliath asked sleepily.

"I'm here, darling," Marra said quickly, reaching forward to feel if the numbweed had soaked completely into the skin.

_Your're hungry. Go eat something._

Marra opened her mouth to protest, but Elliath fixed her with a stubborn stare. She shook her head ruefully and made her way back to the Dining Cavern, hoping that L'valler and the others would forgive her for running off.

* * *

_Okay, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed._

_As always, if you read this far, please review. It's not hard. Just click that wonderful link at the bottom of this story. Yes, the blue one right there. Click it. The faster you click, the faster Chapter 6 is released._


	7. Extra 1

_Well, I've had a comment that I should put in a few scenes of everyday life (a.k.a. padding, extras, unimportant stuff that only serves to build character), and to be honest, I had been debating giving you guys a few extras. I didn't know if I should, though, because I'm _really anxious _to get to Elliath's mating and clutching (and another scene which is actually an extra, but which I like anyway). I've already written the mating scene, soooo. : ) Well, I'm a huge fan of reading extra-ish stuff, so I guess it's not so far off the track to write some extra-ish stuff for my story. I'll give you guys some mindless reading, and I hope you enjoy. ^_^_

_By the way, everyone be sure to send a nice thought toward _thegenuineimitation. _Thanks to her wonderful review, you all get an extra. Thanks for the review, and I'm immensely grateful for the advice. ; )_

_Disclaimer: Same as always._

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Extra 1

"And this is the Records Room," Polika said, concluding her tour of the Weyrwoman's private offices. "In the old days, Weyrwomen were in charge of writing down everything from how much grain was tithed in a season to how many dragons were injured or lost in a Turn. We haven't much worried about that since we first came to High Reaches, but we probably ought to put them to rights."

Marra took the most recent Record (dating from just after the last Pass's end), and carefully blew off a layer of dust. The two women coughed and spluttered to clear their noses and mouths. Marra grimaced and put the Record back, wincing when a corner crumbled away.

"I can see why you left them alone," she said wryly. "There's enough dust floating around in here that I'm sure anyone would be able to spend much longer than a few minutes in here."

Polika laughed. Since Teralth had risen to mate a few days earlier, her temper had improved dramatically. The weyrfolk weren't quite so tense anymore, and P'zan had stopped hastily excusing himself from any room the Weyrwoman entered. The entire Weyr was just happier in general, even though some of the weyrfolk would have to be sent on Search in another two months or so.

"That's exactly why we need to clean it up," Polika said. "No one's been in here since the Benden riders and I first settled here. I intended to be in here for hours on end, getting caught up on the Records, but as soon as I smelled the mold, I left and never came back."

"Wow," Marra said, completely astonished that the capable Weyrwoman would disregard any duty, even one as menial as Record-keeping. "What made you decide to come back here, then?"

"Nothing in particular," Polika said with a shrug, absently tucking her greying red hair behind one ear. "Age mostly. I hadn't much more than thirty Turns when I came here. I was still pretty young and not very inclined to willingly sort through all the dirt in here. Now that I'm older, I've learned that I have to do a lot of things I don't like. This just happens to be one of them. So, let's get to work."

Marra tried not to groan. She was a hard worker, but no one really _liked _to clean. She turned her groan into a small sigh, picked up the damp cleaning rag that she'd brought, and began wiping off the dust coating the large study table. She managed a few swipes, but it wasn't long before her cloth was so clogged with dirt that it wasn't doing any good at all. Polika laughed at the dismayed expression on the younger girl's face .

"Don't worry," she said. "I've asked Teralth to have someone bring up a bucket of water, some extra cloths, and some wood polish. Oh! That should be him now. We're in here!"

The sound of heavy footsteps clomping through Polika's weyr to the entrance of the Records Room was clearly audible. In another moment, Sh'modon walked into the room, his handsome, dark hair neatly pulled back into a short tail. In one hand was a metal bucket, the water sloshing up the sides but, miraculously, not spilling onto the floor. In the other hand was a stack of square cloths and a jar of polish. He bowed quickly to the Weyrwoman and looked around for someplace to deposit his burdens.

"There's fine," Marra said, pointing to a spot by the floor.

"Ugh, even the floor is disgusting in here," Polika said as the weyrling set down the bucket and moved out of the room. "Would you mind bringing up a mop, Sh'modon?"

Sh'modon snorted quietly and left, seeming not to care that Polika was frowning in annoyance. She _was _the Weyrwoman, after all, and no one had the right to simply dismiss her requests.

"I can get it," Marra said quickly, hoping to diffuse the situation. "I'll bring back some food and klah."

"Fine," Polika said. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to overlook such insubordination."

"Good enough," Marra said. "But getting into a big argument over a mop won't help."

Marra saw the Weyrwoman's lined face pull into a grin as she walked out of the room. Farther ahead of her, she could hear Sh'modon stomping through the weyr, muttering to himself. Curious, she quickened her pace so she could hear better.

"...can't even get her own stupid mop," Sh'modon was saying. "What does she think I am? A drudge? Just because she rides a queen everyone's supposed to do whatever she says."

"Well, that _is _typically a Weyrwoman's right," Marra said loudly enough for the younger boy to hear. "And Polika is Weyrwoman enough to make sure she is not disrespected."

He paused, whirling to glare at her.

"When you're assigned to cleaning latrines, you'll know why," Marra added as she brushed past him.

She nodded politely to Teralth as she passed the lounging queen and stifled a giggle when the dragon growled menacingly at the blue rider. Sh'modon yelped and suddenly dashed past her.

"Having fun, Teralth?" she asked in amusement.

The senior queen only blinked slowly and, not surprisingly, did not bother to speak to her. Marra shook her head and continued on her way to find a mop and some food. After some searching through the Lower Caverns, she finally found the spare cleaning supplies tucked away in a corner, and the Headwoman, Senache, was only too willing to give her a tray of sandwiches and hot klah ("to keep away the chill, dear"). Laden with mop and food, she made her way back to the Records Room. Making her way across the queen's ledge, Marra turned to watch the weyrlings send their dragons into the air. She should be sending Elliath up with them, she thought with more than a little bitterness. P'zan had apologized profusely to her just yesterday for allowing such an accident to occur, but since then he had been avoiding her. She assumed he felt guilty, and she didn't, throughout his short visit, ever actually try to ease that guilt. She knew he would never do anything to hurt one of the dragons in his care. He would never do anything to hurt _her. _Marra didn't hold him directly responsible, but she _had _told him she didn't think Elliath should fly. However attached she was to P'zan, she couldn't just overlook his part in Elliath's accident. She wondered if she would ever get over it completely. Probably not. She loved P'zan like a father, but she loved her dragon more. That was the whole point, wasn't it? That a dragonrider always put his (or her) dragon first.

Marra sighed disconsolately. Since the moment Elliath had been blown off course, had uttered her first cry of pain, Marra had known that she had been right and P'zan had been wrong. The bond between weyrgirl and foster father had been shattered. Perhaps that was a good thing. P'zan had always been her superior, however solicitous or caring. Now that their previous relationship had been so mangled and torn, there was room for them to become equals. That's what they were, Marra realized suddenly. She rode a green who had yet to fly while he had a long-lived brown, but they were both dragonriders. She even had the upper hand, having been born, raised, and Impressed at High Reaches. P'zan's crucial milestones had all happened at Benden, a long time ago. She grinned. Perhaps she didn't have to mourn her lost father-figure. She had gained a comrade in his place.

_Teralth says that Polika says you had better hurry, _Elliath said, interrupting the girl's reflections. _Apparently the Weyrwoman is hungry._

Marra grinned.

"I'll be right there," she said, knowing that her green would hear, and relay, the spoken words.

"There you are," Polika said when Marra finally entered the Records Room. "I thought maybe you'd gotten lost."

"How could I get lost in my own Weyr?" Marra asked, setting the food tray on the now-gleaming table. "Hey, you really did a number on this!"

Polika grinned as the younger girl gestured to table, chairs, and alcoves set into the stone walls for glowbaskets. Everything but the shelves and Records had been washed first with water and then, for the wood, polished to a high gloss. Marra whistled appreciatively. She hadn't thought she'd been gone _that _long. She felt a bit guilty for making the older woman work so hard, and quickly gestured her into a chair, pushing a steaming mug of klah at her. Polika sipped and exhaled on a pleasurable sigh.

"Oh, that's heaven in a cup," she said, smiling. "Sit, sit! I feel strange with you hovering like that."

Marra obediently sat, but she couldn't help grabbing up a cleaning cloth and looking toward the Records.

"Plenty of time for that later," Polika said, deterring her from trying to eat and clean at the same time. "Let's try some of this...this isn't herdbeast, is it?"

"No, that's some wild wherry," Marra explained, glad to be on another topic. "Senache was getting worried that such a bland diet was going to affect the riders as well as the weyrfolk, so she asked for a few of the greens and blues to go wherry hunting. They went west, so this will probably taste more like fish than anything, but anything's better than more herdbeast."

Polika agreed heartily, and the two dug into their meal. It was good to just sit together. Polika was such an energetic person that Marra sometimes wondered if she ever sat still. Granted, the Weyrwoman, while still very capable, was getting older. There was no telling how much longer Teralth would continue to rise to mate. Marra was suddenly very aware that, if Teralth didn't clutch a queen egg in the next few Turns, Elliath would be their last hope of continuing at High Reaches. And if Elliath didn't clutch as Polika and S'por hoped, they could only return to Benden (a strange, frightening place to Marra and most of the Weyr) or die out quietly in their secluded home while Thread rained down around them. A slightly wrinkled hand touched Marra's own.

"Don't worry so much," Polika said softly. "Everything will be all right."

"You can't know that," Marra protested.

"No," Polika agreed. "But I can say it. And perhaps if I say it enough and believe it enough, everything _will _be all right."

Marra shook her head in defeat. There was simply no arguing with the Weyrwoman when she didn't want to be wrong. They piled the remnants of their lunch at one end of the table and began carefully cleaning the old Records. Hours later, when everything was spotless and Marra was snuggled into bed with a belly full of hot soup, she reflected quietly on the day. It had been relatively uneventful. There had been no accidents, no outstanding revelations, nothing that came even remotely close to exciting, but the simplicity of it all was somehow what she cherished most. As she gently touched Elliath's sleeping thoughts, pulling the sleeping furs tighter around her shoulders, Marra let the comforting darkness of a dreamless sleep envelop her.

* * *

_How was that? A day in the life of Marra! I didn't think that an extra would be so long, but what can you do? I hope you really enjoy this._

_As always, if you read, review. I love the motivation it provides. Just hearing how you all respond to my writing motivates me crank out another chapter. (By the way, Chapter 6 is already in the works and almost done. If I don't get another review, I won't post it! O.o So review!)_

_Just a thought. Did anyone realize what the healer's name would be if he Impressed? You see where I get my motivation. XP_


	8. Chapter Six

_Okay, we're finally to Chapter six. I apologize for the delay, but I've been getting back to school (and trying not to cry when my bus gets cancelled...repeatedly). If you want to know why it took so long, either check my profile or check the reviews for this story (I reviewed myself, lol). And in answer to to before...V'lasic. Vlasic. Pickles with a stork! xD_

_Anyway, here we go with the plot! I'm sorry this one is long...or maybe you guys like long chapters. But this scene required a bit more. :P_

_Disclaimer: Same as always._

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Chapter 6: Eighth Interval (Turn 196)

"Now, stretch that wing as far as it will go," Velasic told Elliath, one hand resting on her hide to feel the muscle.

Elliath complied, stretching her limb to the utmost. It was a good thing the Weyrhealer had decided to conduct his examination outside on the ledge, otherwise the green dragon would be scraping her wingtip on the rock ceiling. Marra hovered anxiously nearby as the tall, thin healer made various contemplating noises. He had checked Elliath's wing every morning for the past six days, and each time his verdict had been the same: stretch those muscles, take a glide down to the lake, and we'll see what the morning brings. No sense pushing her before she's completely healed.

"Good girl," Velasic murmured, slapping her shoulder affectionately in the established signal for the dragon to drop her wing. "There's no swelling. The muscle seems sound and strong. Have you been oiling her every day?"

Marra smiled, having heard the same little speech every day that the healer had gone over her partner.

"Yes, Velasic," she replied. "Twice yesterday."

Velasic nodded and eyed the dragon silently for another moment.

"Send her up, then," he said finally.

"What?"

Marra was struck dumb. She had begun to expect Velasic's denial. What was this, then? He had thrown her completely off balance. The healer raised his eyebrow.

"It's been three months," he said. "She's as healed as she'll ever be just resting and stretching. The next step is flying, and she's three months behind the other dragons of her clutch. She can't stay grounded anymore than she can be kept from flaming. So send her up."

Despite the healer's poor comparison (since Elliath undoubtedly _would _be kept from flaming), Marra stepped back and gestured for the green to take flight.

_Really? I can? _Elliath asked excitedly, her eyes whirling brightly.

"Go on!" Marra called, her words almost lost as the dragon leaped skyward.

She had an instant of fear as Elliath made her first few downstrokes but firmly suppressed that emotion. It wouldn't do to worry her dragon mid-flight. The green was ascending smoothly, without any of the stiffness that Velasic had said could result from a torn muscle. In no time at all, Elliath had reached the level of P'zan and Portith's weyr, but Velasic did not order an immediate landing. She climbed higher, almost reaching to the tip of one of the seven peaks High Reaches was famous for before dipping one wing and beginning a shallow descent.

_This is fun, _Elliath commented brightly. _I like flying. Can I do more of it?_

_Of course, _Marra told her. _But now you need to come back down, dearest._

_Oh, but the others are right there, _Elliath said wistfully, her desire to join her clutchmates causing her to veer slightly in that direction. _They're flaming!_

Marra looked quickly to where J'lir, the new Weyrlingmaster, was holding his lesson. Sure enough, the dragons were all either chewing determinedly or releasing short bursts of orange fire. She shook her head sharply and called Elliath to order.

_Come back here, Elliath. We aren't training with them anymore._

Marra felt the acute disappointment in her dragon, even though she had corrected her angle and was coming in to land on the ledge. The ground shook slightly as it took her weight, but Velasic didn't stumble as he strode forward. Before Elliath had time to even completely furl her wings, the healer was feeling her muscles and checking her wing membrane. The smile on his face as he turned back to Marra was all the confirmation she needed to relax completely. Before he could even say something, Marra had leaped towards her dragon and wrapped her arms joyfully about the beast's neck. Velasic chuckled.

"She's perfectly fine now," he said.

"Oh, thank you!" Marra cried. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

_Thank you, _Elliath said to the healer, imitating her rider without quite knowing what she was thanking him for.

"Oh, hush," Velasic said with a smile, though he was obscurely pleased that the dragon had chosen to speak to him. "Now, you'll need to keep that shoulder well-oiled, and if she complains of tightness or stiffness, tell me straight away. We don't want another injury to come about because someone missed clues. All right?"

"Yes, sir," Marra said, pulling herself up to stand taller. "Um, Velasic?"

"Yes?"

"Polika said that Elliath and I were to pick up our training with the new weyrlings, after the Hatching," she said, gesturing to the Hatching Ground where Teralth would clutch. "What should we do until then?"

"I wouldn't know, to be honest," Velasic commented. "You could ask J'lir. It looks like he's finishing up for the morning."

Marra grinned and began the long trek toward the other weyrlings. She could see the boys beginning to disperse with their dragons and had Elliath relay a request for J'lir to wait for her. She saw the older rider pause and turn in her direction. By the time she had reached him, even his bronze dragon had winged his way up to a higher-level weyr.

"So Velasic says Elliath's all healed," he commented. "She's flying well."

"She wants to flame now," Marra said, allowing some of her frustration to leak into her voice. "She can't really even learn anything, either, since Polika wants her to train with the next group of weyrlings."

"Really?" J'lir said, seeming surprised. "Well, I can't say that's a great decision, but given that she's three months behind her own group, I suppose there's really no other way. It's not like she could be trained privately. Even then, she would be between groups and set apart even further."

"So what should I do?" Marra asked. "Teralth's not due to clutch for another few days, and then we'll have to wait another month before the eggs even hatch. When you add in the Turn it'll take to get her back where she was, it doesn't seem fair at all."

J'lir frowned as he thought, and his eyes briefly unfocused as he conferred with his dragon.

"Well, it'll take about two months before Elliath is strong enough to fly you," the Weyrlingmaster said. "Until then, have her fly one lap around the Weyr. Every few days, increase the number of laps. In two months, she'll be ready to fly with you on her. I'll help you with the first flight, and then Mendith can instruct you while I'm with the other weyrlings. It's only practical to get that far, but beyond that you'll have to abide by the Weyrwoman's decision. I'd prefer to teach you to go _between. _Maybe I should talk to the Weyrwoman about this and see if we can arrange something that wouldn't put you so far behind."

"That's all right," Marra said, barely succeeding at keeping her voice calm and even. "I'll talk to her, and let you know what she says. Thanks, though."

"I'll see you at dinner then," J'lir said in parting before walking off.

_I don't get to flame? _Elliath asked dejectedly.

"I'm afraid not, dearest," Marra said softly, knowing that her words would reach the green dragon. "But at least we get to fly."

_Yes. I like to fly! _Elliath's exultant bugle echoed around the Weyr Bowl to be repeated by some of the other dragons. Her peer group had all been moved to higher weyrs in the cliff-face, but they weren't so far removed that they wouldn't respond to their clutch-mate's emotions. Marra wondered if they would be so responsive when Elliath rose in another Turn or so. Did she want them to be? She shook her head to clear her thoughts. No sense worrying about the future now. Instead, she would concentrate on building Elliath's strength and building her own place in the Weyr...apart from being the only female greenrider in history.

"Marra!"

She turned at the voice behind her, grinning when she saw L'valler jogging to meet her. In moments, he was at her side, not even breathing heavily from the short run. He grinned.

"So Elliath is flying, huh?" he said. "It's about time."

"I'll say," Marra said, beginning to grin herself.

"In light of this momentous event," L'valler went on, "I have a surprise for you. Here. I think you'll like it."

Wondering what on Pern he was hinting at, Marra took the small, wooden box he retrieved from his coat pocket. At his urging, she lifted the lid and gasped. Nestled on a bed of soft, blue fabric was a delicate pendant, the light chain swirled all around it. The silver metal was crafted in the image of a lithe dragon with its wings outspread, tiny green gems embedded in the head for eyes. Each end of the chain was attached to a wingtip. Marra was awestruck. She gently touched the fluid chain, loving the feel of the cool metal on her skin. L'valler gently took the necklace from its case and looped it around her neck, reaching behind her to fix the clasp just right. Marra touched the pendant hesitantly before looking up at the brownrider.

"This is beautiful," she said. "But why...? How...?"

"It's a gift from all of us," L'valler said. "All of your friends, I mean. We figured you needed something to commemorate Elliath's recovery."

Tears pricked unexpectedly at her eyes, and, acting on brash, impulsive instinct, she hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," she said, pulling away.

"Don't thank me yet," he said, refusing to relinquish her hand. "You have another surprise."

He set a course for the Lower Cavern, pulling her along behind him. Marra's queries met with no answer.

"Just wait," L'valler said just before they entered the cavern. "You'll see."

"L'valler, dinner's not for hours. What are you...?"

"Surprise!"

What seemed like everyone Marra had ever known or cared about was crowded into the cavern, smiles on every face as they applauded. Brightly colored banners were strung along the walls and the ceiling in between dozens of glowbaskets. On the Weyrleaders' table was a spread of various sweets, pastries, and fruits on one end and stew, soup, chowder, meats, cheeses, vegetables, and casseroles. L'valler tugged her further into the room, leading her up to the table where Polika and S'por were waiting. They each hugged her tightly.

"But, what is this for?" Marra asked hesitantly. "Not for Elliath's wing..."

Everyone chuckled.

"Today's your birthing-day, greenrider," Polika said. "We're celebrating."

"Happy birthday, Marra," L'valler whispered beside her, squeezing her hand gently. "Did you make a wish?"

"Yes," Marra responded, very aware of her hand in his.

"Did it come true?" he asked.

He slid one around her waist, leaned forward, and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Almost."

L'valler grinned. To much shouting, whistling, and clapping, he kissed her soundly and properly.

"How about now?" he asked.

Marra's only answer was to wrap her arms around him and press her lips against his. This felt right, and she decided abruptly that she had just gotten the very best birthing-day present. As they separated from their embrace, both of their faces slightly redder than before, Marra hoped next year's present was even better.

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_Sorry for the strange turn of events there. O.o I actually didn't know L'valler was going to make an appearance in this one, and it suddenly turned into a bit of an extra at the end. Her birthday came right out of the blue, heh. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm sorry for the delay. That's life._

_As always, if you read, review. I love hearing your thoughts so much that I check the reviews every time I log on here, even multiple times a day. It's great knowing what you think, and I really appreciate the extra four minutes of effort. :)_


	9. Chapter Seven

_Well, I am just so anxious to get to Elliath's mating flight. Is that bad? So, I'm going to put up this one, and then you'll probably get the flight scene (nothing too bad, lol). If you think there should be something else tossed in here (like...I honestly don't know, that's why I'm asking you), post it in a review. I'll definately try to get it in. And I've decided to not have anyone get seriously injured in this (like with Elliath's wing). Ugh, short author's note. Nothing to say. I bet you all love that._

_Disclaimer: Same as always...yadda yadda...blah blah...obviously not Ms. McCaffry here...you're not paying to read so I'm not getting paid to write...etc. etc. ...enjoy!_

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**Chapter 7: Eighth Interval (Turn 197)**

The hard-packed dirt of the Weyr Bowl seemed somehow more solid to Marra, perched somewhat precariously on Elliath's whithers. Even secured with brand-new riding straps and settled on the smallest of the dragon colors, the ground was still far below her and very likely to hurt when she fell. Marra was careful to not let any of her doubts reach Elliath's eager mind. The green had barely been able to stand still while Marra was mounting, and now she was doing a sort of forward-backward, shuffling-in-place movement that was not altogether comfortable. Dragons were peering out of their weyrs from higher up, eagerly watching their comrade as she looked up at them. J'lir stood at Elliath's side, one hand resting on Marra's foot. She glanced down at him worriedly, not reassured one bit by his knowing smile.

"Don't worry so much," J'lir said. "You won't fall."

"Is it that obvious?" Marra replied with a faint smile, her voice trembling a tiny bit.

"Not really," the Weyrlingmaster said, shrugging one shoulder. "Every rider feels that way the first time they fly their dragon."

Marra snorted, looking at him pointedly.

"Yes, I was scared, too," he said. "Believe it or not, it took nearly two hours before I got the courage to let Mendith in the air. Of course..."

"...I know, you didn't fall, and were never afraid again," Marra finished, rolling her eyes.

"Not at all," J'lir said with a laugh. "I fell on the third downstroke and broke my arm in three places. I flatly refused to fly for almost a sevenday, until I felt so bad for Mendith I went up again. _Then _I didn't fall and wasn't afraid of flying anymore."

Marra couldn't manage more than a short, breathy half-laugh in response.

"That's not comforting, you realize," she murmured. "I could still fall."

Elliath took that moment to notice her rider.

_You won't fall, _she said confidently. _I won't let you. Just don't jump._

Marra wasn't sure if that was a joke or not, even though J'lir was grinning; Mendith must have passed on his charge's comment.

"I know you wouldn't let me fall," she replied. "But I might anyway."

J'lir slapped her leg sharply.

"Don't say that!" he said. He sighed heavily. "Marra, do you have any idea _why _this has to happen?"

"So that we can fly?" Marra asked, not quite certain what he was asking.

"Not just to get you flying," J'lir replied. "It's to get you flying _together. _Any holder or crafter can ride on a dragon as passenger. The real point is for you to learn how to trust your dragon implicitly. You're supposed to be afraid right now. You're supposed to fly despite that fear, to realize for yourself what your bond with Elliath means. You will do what is necessary for her health, happiness, and safety, and she will do the same for you. Until you take this first flight, you won't be able to understand that fully. Do you understand?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Marra said slowly.

But it did make sense, she supposed.

"Whenever you're ready, Marra," J'lir said, stepping well away from Elliath. "Just remember that Elliath _won't _let you fall."

Marra nodded, turning her face up to the empty airspace that Elliath would shortly occupy. She took a deep, shuddering breath that was meant to calm her, and gripped the riding straps tightly. She could do this. She wouldn't fall. Elliath wouldn't let her fall. If nothing else, she had to believe in that.

_Can we fly now? _Elliath asked wistfully, her wings half-opening.

_Let's fly!_

Elliath took a moment to gather herself before pushing off with her powerful hind legs. Her wings made their first few crucial downstrokes, just clearing the ground as she rose into the air. Marra held her breath and counted the downstrokes. One, two, three. The small group of weyrfolk and riders were beginning to blur into unrecognizability. Marra could just make out J'lir beside his bronze, and there was L'valler with some of their friends. She was surprised at how many people had turned out to see this flight. Four, five, six wingbeats. They had risen to the highest level of weyrs, where no one lived anymore. Elliath beat her wings a few more times before leveling out, the cool air reddening Marra's cheeks and making her breath mist in front of her. Marra looked straight ahead of her, not daring to look down.

_You should look, _Elliath said. _It looks very pretty from up here. Much better than from down there._

Elliath wouldn't let her fall. She had to cling to that thought. She _couldn't _fall because Elliath wouldn't _let _her. There was no danger in just looking, right?

_I can't, _she told her dragon frantically. _I'm scared._

_Don't be. I'll help you._

With only the barest hint of warning, Elliath dropped her left wing. For a moment or so, Marra found herself looking straight down with nothing but air below her. She clutched desperately at the riding straps, but Elliath leveled herself out again. Marra's heart was pounding, and her breath was coming quicker. She blinked furiously, and, holding her breath cautiously, she looked over Elliath's shoulder.

It _was _pretty. Marra had spent her whole life on the ground levels of High Reaches Weyr. She had memorized the Weyr from every angle and every view...from the ground. Now she could see it as every dragon and rider saw it. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing the exact layout like a wonderfully detailed, unlabeled map. She could almost forget how high up they were. A gust of wind buffeted them, and Elliath was thrown briefly off balance before correcting herself. Even before Marra could ask if she was all right (she was always wary of situations like the one that had injured her green in the first place), Elliath was assuring her that this was normal. She dealt with it every time she flew, and it was always different. The wind simply forced her to be more aware of herself and her surroundings.

_Mendith says to come back now,_ Elliath reported presently, her tone making it obvious that she hoped Marra would contradict the order.

Instead, Marra merely directed her to come back their starting point. Landing was just as bad as taking off; worse, even, because they were coming toward the ground at rapid pace. If Elliath were to falter (and she devoutly assured Marra that she would do no such thing), Marra would be able to see it coming. But Elliath would not endanger her. She held her breath and braced herself as Elliath held out her wings, slowing her forward motion drastically. Her back feet connected with the ground as he wings steadied her. As she settled to four feet, Marra found herself suddenly aware of disappointment. It was not Elliath who wished to be back in the sky; it was Marra. She glanced up involuntarily, wondering where exactly they had reached their highest point. As J'lir approached, a smile on his face, Marra knew that he understood completely. He could see that she wasn't afraid anymore.

"Well done," he murmured as she dismounted.

"Thanks," she replied. "For everything."

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_Okay, so the ending sucks. And I guess it might be filler, but it is technically important to the storyline, so sue me. Oh well, I just want to get this updated, so I'm not even going to think about it that much. Remember that. I didn't think before updating._

_As always, if you read, review. Just press that button at the bottom here. It'll make everyone a lot happier. If you like it, if you hate it, if you couldn't care less. If you see some bit of inconsistency. If you have advice, questions, odd little thought that pop into your head. I'll take it._


	10. Chapter Eight First Flight

_Okay, here it is. What everyone's been waiting for. I simply can't stand waiting. ^_^ Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Same as always._

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Chapter 8: Eighth Interval (Turn 197)

First Flight

When Elliath let out her first shriek, Marra was instantly aware of the chaotic, bestial frenzy of her thoughts. She dashed to the entrance of her ground level weyr in time to see her dragon's lithe, green body gliding swiftly toward the Feeding Grounds, sending the herdbeasts and wherries into a terrified stampede. As she quickly dispatched one creature with a voracity unlike any other, her green hide seeming to glow with an inner luminosity, Marra gasped with understanding.

"Don't you dare!" she cried as Elliath made to swallow a mouthful of flesh, the blood dripping hotly to the ground. "Elliath, you spit that out this instant! You must only blood it. Only the blood, Elliath."

Her eyes flashing redly with defiance, Elliath swallowed.

"Elliath!" Marra yelled sharply, exerting mental pressure. "Blood it! Don't make me say it again."

Elliath bellowed angrily, but she lowered her head to suck up the poor, dead animal's blood. A wherry dashed too close in its panic, and, with its short wings clipped to prevent flight, it became the green's second kill. Elliath had to be reminded again to blood the wherry, but she still managed to get a mouthful of meat. By the time she finished blooding her third beast, Marra had made her way to the Feeding Ground where what must have been close to two dozen male riders waited. She was comforted by the fact that none of them seemed to be older than about thirty Turns, but the sight of their male dragons eyeing Elliath made her slightly nervous. Elliath had noticed them, too. One moment she was stretching sensuously, displaying her powerful body, and then she was in the air with blue, brown, and bronze bodies following. Marra had only a moment to see the men looking toward her expectantly, to feel their hot bodies pressing too closely, before she was in the sky with her dragon, more Elliath than herself.

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They were behind her, far enough behind that she didn't worry, but close enough that she didn't dare slow her speed. She had never flown like this before. The speed was exhilerating; the abrupt twists and turns she made mid-air were wondrous fun. She would never fly so dangerously with a rider on her back, but for this flight she was free. The hot blood she had consumed spurred her body, warming her from the inside when the freezing air would have cooled her ardor. The two mouthfuls of meat she had consumed weighed heavily in her stomach, though, and seemed to drag her down. With every turn, she felt the lumps being thrown against her stomach walls. She regretted those mouthfuls, but she was quick, quicker than any other dragon.

A shadow came up on her left, forcing her to veer right. Silly blue, trying to catch her with such an obvious ploy. She glanced behind her, smug to see that more than half of her suitors had dropped back to the Weyr. Only the very best would be able to vie for her affection. Only the strongest, fastest, smartest dragon would be able to twine necks with _her. _She playfully closed her wings for a heartbeat, watching gleefully as the swarm of dragons scattered to avoid her falling form. Two almost collided, but they all managed to sort themselves out while she opened her wings. The cool air filled her wingsails and carried her higher than before. Another few blues and a brown dropped away, unable to keep up with her smaller, quicker form.

Without warning, a brown body darted close to her, too close to avoid. She hissed in surprise as he looped his neck around hers, locked his talons with hers, and fused his body with hers. Then she knew that she had been well and truly caught. As the two fell towards the ground so far below, she gave herself over to ecstasy.

* * *

Marra was first aware that she was in a room dimly lit by glows and lying on a bed with only furs to cover her. She was incredibly sore and exhausted, but she felt good. The warm, male body next to her probably accounted for that. His breathing was slowing back to a normal rate, but his body, like hers, was covered in sweat. One arm lay across her stomach, and the other provided a soft, living pillow beneath her head. She met his light-blue gaze and smiled, still in that euphoric state of half-consciousness.

"Hey," she murmured, not certain how one greeted their first lover, especially after a mating flight.

"Hey," he replied.

Marra had not been quite able to identify her bedmate. His sweat-drenched hair was as dark as any other rider's, and the dim lighting didn't help any. But that voice...Marra could remember that voice just fine, even roughened as it was. She turned toward L'valler and accepted the gentle kiss he gave her.

"They've almost returned, you know," he said. "Chith and Elliath."

Marra sighed slightly, snuggling closer. She'd felt them, too. L'valler shifted away, and she cried out involuntarily.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

L'valler chuckled slightly and arranged himself so that his arms encircled her body completely, hugging her tightly to himself.

"This is your first flight, isn't it," he said, not seeking an answer. "It's only common courtesy to stay...at least until the morning."

Was that all? After everything they'd shared, he would stay only out of common courtesy? She'd thought he cared about her. Marra moved to extricate herself from his embrace, but he held her tighter.

"Besides," he said, pretending not to notice her reaction to his previous statement, "I want to stay with you as long as you'll have me...whether Chith continues to fly Elliath or not. Though I don't think that will be a problem."

"Do you really mean that?" Marra asked after a pause, still afraid that her first relationship with a man would be cut short for conveniance.

L'valler kissed her soundly.

"Of course," he replied. "I care about you very much, Marra."

He then proceeded to show her exactly how much he cared for her, both dragons giving their tacit approval of the match.

* * *

_Don't you love it? :) I'm just glad to have it out. It's been done for way too long._

_Remember, if you read, review. I really appreciate it, and I know you all have something to say. Whether it's simply "good job" or "not my thing" or "it needs some work," I'll still take it. ^_^_


	11. Extra 2

_Okay, I know it's been forever. I apologize. No excuse. Blah blah. And you're not even getting a real chapter, just an extra. Then you'll have another extra after this one. Then you'll get a chapter (finally). Well, anyway, I hope you like it. I've been trying to get this finished for a couple of weeks. XP While you're reading, I have a question for you. Do dragons yawn?_

_Disclaimer: Consider this story **disclaimed.**_

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Extra 2

_The Weyrwoman is coming, _Elliath announced early one morning.

The green's tone carried exactly the irritation that Marra herself was feeling from being woken up, though she told her dragon dutifully to be kind. Polika was their Weyrwoman as much as she was their friend, and as such she deserved their respect.

You _would not interrupt _her _sleep before the sun had risen, _Elliath grumbled. _Why should she be allowed to do so?_

"Because she has been Weyrwoman longer than either of us has been alive," Marra said distractedly as she rolled out from under sleeping furs. "She must have a good reason, anyway."

"Indeed, I do," Polika called suddenly from the weyr's outer entrance. "Take your time, Marra. I can wait here with Elliath while you wake up."

Marra stifled a surprised shout; she hadn't thought the Weyrwoman was so near. She tossed on the cleanest-looking work clothes from the growing pile in the corner of her room. Marra was immensely glad that L'valler had not stayed the night, as they had both planned. One of his wingmates had taken sick, and he'd decided to keep the blue rider company. It was just as well. Even though she and L'valler had been declared weyrmates, Marra would still have felt awkward if L'valler had been sharing her bed when Polika decided to pay such an unexpected call.

_Are you done? _Marra asked after a moment. _The Weyrwoman is anxious._

_I'll be right out, _Marra told her.

She had only to lace up her heavy, wherhide boots and tie her hair out of her eyes before going out to face Polika. The Weyrwoman glanced over her hasty dress and smiled with approval.

"I'm glad you chose rough clothing," she said. "I have a favor to ask of you that will probably require them."

"Have I earned a day cleaning out store rooms again?" Marra asked.

"Nothing quite so dire," Polika said with a laugh. "Or maybe it is. I'd like you to help J'lir with the weyrlings today."

"Ah," Marra said in perfect understanding.

She'd wondered how J'lir would handle this new bunch. He was weyrbred, through and through, and not used to dealing with holders. The twelve new riders, all of them holders, hadn't been exactly happy with their new instructor either. They weren't used to being constantly surrounded by dragons and weyrfolk, and hadn't quite adjusted in the few days they had been in High Reaches Weyr.

"How long shall I play mediator, then?" she asked.

"Today at least," Polika replied. "If they don't break you down today, I'll ask you to continue. You can be Junior Weyrlingmaster."

Marra laughed. It was a silly notion to promote a girl who hadn't 20 Turns yet to such an important position, but it was a kind thought nonetheless.

_Can I help? _Elliath asked, poking a soft muzzle in her rider's direction.

"If you can stay awake long enough," Marra replied, rubbing the proffered snout affectionately. "You know you've been sleeping more lately."

"She wants to help?" Polika asked.

Marra nodded.

"Well, if you want to get down there, you'd best get a move on," Polika said. "J'lir said the weyrlings aren't quite comfortable with making their dragons' meals yet, and he can't be there for another hour or so. Those hatchlings are going to wake up and be ravenous."

She rolled her eyes and began to move out of the weyr, Marra following amiably. The green rider cast her dragon a questioning look, which was met by a huge yawn.

_Perhaps I will join you later, _Elliath said before settling back into the only position she found comfortable enough with her as-of-yet-unconfirmed pregnancy: on her side, with legs and tail stretched out and head resting on a pile of discarded furs gathered specifically for that purpose.

Marra wished her sweet dreams and left. During the short walk to the weyrling barracks, Polika kindly reminded her of little details about her new charges. She learned their names, their dragons' names, and the colors they had Impressed all in a matter of minutes. It took longer to learn their original holds, crafts, and family structure and size. Polika had barely finished explaining that G'sel (the tall, hot-headed bronze rider) had set himself up as a leader (with M'ley and T'jal as seconds) when the arrived at the barracks.

"Teralth says the hatchlings are still asleep," Polika said. "So are their riders. The dragons will be awake soon, though, and will be hungry. If there isn't sufficient meat, there might be trouble. Can you handle it?"

The slight frown on her face made Marra wonder if the Weyrwoman was rethinking sending her in among the weyrlings alone.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Go on and tend your Weyr."

Polika smiled with relief, patted her shoulder in thanks, and began making her way back to her own weyr. Marra waited until she saw Teralth's glowing eyes through the early morning mist before stepping into the barracks.

Everything was as she remembered it. There were the raised, wooden pallets for the dragons to sleep on, each with a little bed next it. There were the several entranceways that would lead to additional rooms for the riders (as they began to crave more space and their dragons didn't require their constant presence), latrines, bathing rooms, and various recreational rooms. Marra had never been allowed in the latrines or the bathing rooms. P'zan hadn't wanted her around the male weyrlings much in such places, so she'd had to use the regular Weyr facilities. Twelve of the pallets and beds had figures sleeping on them, either curled up or sprawled out, but many more were empty. It made Marra sad to see that there were so few new dragons. Several dragon tails twitched, and Marra knew they would be waking soon. She would have to get the weyrlings up soon. She wandered over to the first bed and shook the sleeper's shoulder enough to bring him to wakefulness.

"Huh…what?" he muttered sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Time to get up," Marra replied, just able to recognize the boy as G'sel. "Help me wake the others, will you?"

G'sel looked ready to argue, but he rolled out of his bed and moved toward the next one in line. Slowly, the two of them roused the rest of the weyrlings. Marra mentally catalogued their reactions to a girl's presence in their most private of rooms. They ranged from indifferent to embarrassed to angry, but by the time they had all returned from getting dressed in one of the inner rooms, they were mostly composed. Marra grinned to herself, glanced about the room of still-sleeping dragonets, and gestured to the boys to follow her outside. A few grumbled, but they followed, exclaiming loudly at the freezing air outside.

"Yes, mountains are cold," Marra said patiently. "Especially at night and in the early morning. Best get used to that. Now, come this way and we'll see about breakfast."

"The Kitchen is open this early?" a brownrider (Marra thought he was M'ley) asked, surprised.

"Of course," Marra replied. "But we're not going to the Kitchen. You can have your breakfast _after _your dragons have eaten. We're going to make them breakfast."

A few of the boys paled; others gulped. Not surprisingly, the green and blue riders looked most off-balance. They were often more sensitive, and usually took the longest to adjust to their partners' eating habits. They would take the most encouragement, Marra noted as she led them over to the portion of land where beasts were slaughtered for their meat. The ground was bare earth darkened by years of almost constant bloodshed. The few gobbets of meat that critters hadn't found were rotting quietly off to the side as they waited for someone to clean up. Young D'tal, one of the brown riders, took one look at the three-sided shed of butchering tools and wobbled on his feet. Marra stepped up in front of the shed, turning to face the twelve boys.

"Dragons eat meat," she began. "Not cooked meat, not old meat, but fresh, hot, bloody meat. You know that as well as anyone by now. For the next few months, _you _are going to be responsible for providing that meat. You will have to kill and cut apart an animal, and you will feed it bit by bit to your dragon. Does anyone feel that queasy feel in the pit of your stomach?"

A few hands were tentatively raised. All of their eyes were focused on her now; they didn't even look over when Rislor, the Weyr's herdsman, came up leading a string of fat, docile herbeasts.

"Ignore it," Marra went on calmly. "That feeling will go away in a while, and you'll feel much worse if you have nothing to give your starving dragon. Until you're capable of doing this on your own, I'm going to help you. Now, get into an apron, grab a knife, and come over here."

As the boys followed her instructions, Marra had Rislor separate the smallest of the beasts and take the other five behind the shed and out of sight. She took a deep breath and pulled on a thick butcher's apron, absently rubbing the animal's soft, dusty muzzle. She hadn't had to kill anything for Elliath in two Turns; she hoped she remembered how. Finally, the weyrlings gathered around, and Marra began the process of preparing a dragonet's meal. At each step, she explained what she was doing, and toward the end she called one of the more fragile-looking green riders forward to help her. By the time she had another beast brought out to be slaughtered by a weyrling, Marra was sweaty, blood-soaked, and thoroughly pleased with the results. Her pupils weren't looking so ill, and some of them were even smiling a bit and joking with each other. When the first hatchlings wandered sleepily out of the barracks, the last beast was almost finished being butchered. Marra helped some of the weyrlings fill up the oversized metal buckets with dripping meat and let them lug the heavy things to their respective dragons. J'lir stepped up quietly beside her.

"You're a miracle, Marra," J'lir said from. "I was wondering if they would ever get the gumption to kill the things themselves."

"When'd you get here?" Marra asked, tearing her gaze from the boys.

"A few minutes ago," J'lir replied. "Polika said you were giving me the morning off."

"You could say that," Marra said with a laugh. "They're still a bit squeamish, but I don't think you'll have to worry about starving dragonets. I think the next time they need feeding, I'll show those boys how to catch their own beasts."

"You're relentless."

"I like to call it persistent."

"Persistent it is. It seems you're good at this. Did Polika tell you I requested you to be my Junior Weyrlingmaster?"

"What?"Marra exclaimed. "I thought she was joking!"

"Mm, no," J'lir said. "You're really good at this. So, will you accept?"

Marra smiled. A jumble of emotions was running through her: surprise, joy, uncertainty, fear, pride. Finally, she looked J'lir square in the face.

"I'd be honored."

* * *

_Ta-da. I didn't put detail to the butchering bit because 1) I didn't want to change the rating for the story and 2) I was getting pretty squeamish myself. So, I hope you enjoyed._

_As always, if you read, please review. I really appreciate it._


	12. Chapter Nine

_I apologize for the incredibly long delay. Real life has caught up with me, and I've had no time at all to work on this. I also have been taking a break from writing since winning NaNoWriMo in November (50,002 words, and the stupid thing's not done), so that's also had a hand. However, I hope that as soon as I've finished the very important essay I need to write, I'll be able to pay more attention to this. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you're not too disappointed in the ending of this story (I have a vague idea of how it will end, and it will not be pretty; the Hatching will not be the end)._

**_Disclaimed_**

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Chapter 9: Early-Mid Winter

The soft _click-click _of Marra's smooth, fellis-wood knitting needles could barely be heard over the howling wind that had been blowing through the Weyr for the past few days. Marra had finally relented and was currently wrapped in two heavy furs, two thick sweaters, and three pairs of socks. Still it wasn't enough. A fire was burning merrily in the hearth for good measure. At least her fingers, constantly pressed up against the soft, blue yarn, were somewhat warm. She twined the thin yarn around her needles, working it into a tube that would (if all went right) become a sock. She hadn't picked up knitting since her mother died Turns before. It had never seem as vitally important a skill as…well, anything else, really. But she had found that she knew what to do again as soon as she started twining the yarn around the smooth, worn needles. It helped her to relax, to let the stress of the day fade away. Pretty soon she was knitting in all her spare time (that is, whenever she wasn't helping J'lir with the weyrlings or tending to Elliath). She'd finished two scarves, three hats, and a pair of gloves in the last month. It was a wonderful way to just let herself think.

_He's waiting at the entrance, _Elliath said, interrupting her rider's thoughts.

Marra knew from her tone that the green dragon meant L'valler. She was too calm, too relaxed, for it to be anyone else.

_He is worried he will be interrupting you, but Chith says he wishes to see you very badly, _Elliath added.

Marra smiled happily.

"Come on in!" she called to him through the heavy hanging that covered the entrance. "You're not disturbing me."

There was a moment of pause while her voice carried out, and then she could just hear L'valler striding into the outer weyr where Elliath was curled up. He burst into the inner room bringing a gust of freezing, snow-laden wind with him. He stamped off the last layer of snow sticking to his boots and shook the snowflakes out of his hair before turning to face her. He bent forward and kissed her gently on the cheek, his lips leaving a frozen patch behind. His hand found the blue fabric on her lap, and he tugged it out of Marra's grasp to examine it.

"And what is this?" he asked, playfully tugging on the string still attached to it.

"It's a sock, silly," Marra laughed. "And I'll thank you to return it."

"And since when are you the knitting kind of girl?" he asked, giving it back.

Marra heard the surface question, but she also saw through it to what he was really asking. Since when did she content herself with a task that she had never, in all the Turns he'd known her, seen her interested in? Many of the Lower Cavern people spent their spare time knitting (even quite a few of the riders occupied themselves with knitting during the long, winter months), but Marra had always avoided it.

"Well, I thought I may as well get some practice," she said evasively.

"For what?" he asked, a bit of worry entering his voice. "Do you think that I would expect my mate to cloister herself in her quarters and do nothing but sit and knit for hours on end? Don't you think I have more respect for you?"

Marra laughed, cutting off the rest of whatever it was L'valler might have been about to say.

"I don't think anything of the sort," she said soothingly. "It's my own choice to want to be able to do _something _motherly. I don't know a single woman who hasn't knitted clothes for her babies."

She grinned at L'valler's shocked expression. His mouth moved without making any noise, and he kept glancing down at her stomach and back to her face. He took a step back and kept staring. Marra grinned wildly and nodded, her eyes shining.

"We're going to have a baby," she said, making it official.

_Chith asks when you will clutch, _Elliath said, amused.

"When are you due?" L'valler managed to ask at the same time, moving to sit next to her on the wide, cushioned couch.

"I'm not exactly sure," Marra replied. "Six months at the earliest, but it could be a bit longer than that. First babies can be late sometimes, and I'm not positive when exactly I conceived."

"Oh, it doesn't even matter!" L'valler exclaimed excitedly, pulling Marra up into a huge hug. "We're going to have a baby!"

"I know! I know!"

It was a few minutes before either of them could anything but hold each other and repeat that they were going to have a baby. Then they couldn't say anything at all. They sat together on the wide double bed and let the knowledge of their impending parenthood settle itself in their minds.

_Marra? _Elliath asked some time later. _Are you well? You haven't moved in ages._

_I'm fine, _Marra replied silently.

_The Weyrwoman is looking for you, _Elliath told her. _Teralth says she wants to speak with us both. Privately, she says._

_Can you ask her to come here? _Marra asked. _I can get L'valler to leave._

_I have asked her, _Elliath said a moment later. _She comes. She says that L'valler can stay if he wants to. It concerns him as well._

_What does?_

_I don't know. She didn't tell me. She will be there soon._

"Polika's coming," Marra told L'valler.

"Should I go?" he asked.

"No, she said you can stay," Marra said with a smile. "I already asked."

"I wonder what she wants," L'valler mused.

Marra had an inkling, but she only shrugged. If Polika wanted to include L'valler in _that _discussion, then she was perfectly okay with that. She didn't like keeping secrets from her weyrmate, and this was the biggest secret she'd ever known. It was even harder on Elliath to be unable to even hint at her current condition to Chith. Soon, though, the secret would be out. It was only a few minutes before Polika's greeting to Elliath made her presence known, and Marra and L'valler went out to meet her.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Marra said, politely giving the older woman a lead-in to whatever it was she was going to say.

"Yes," Polika replied. "It's about what we talked about awhile back. You remember?"

Polika gave her a sideways look and a slight grin as she proceeded to scratch Elliath's chin. Marra grinned back.

"I remember," she said.

L'valler glanced at his Weyrwoman and then back at Marra. It was obvious that they had a secret. He had no clue what they were talking about.

"Maybe I should go," he murmured uncomfortably.

Polika grinned at him and turned so she was facing the two dragonriders.

"You really should hear this, L'valler," she said. "It concerns you. And it's not like everyone won't know soon enough anyway. You know that Teralth has not once, in all her time here in High Reaches, clutched a queen egg. She and I are getting old, and if we die without a clutching dragon to take our place, this Weyr will die with us. So S'por and I decided to let a green clutch. You see where I'm going with this, don't you?"

"I think so, Weyrwoman," L'valler said softly, unable to keep from looking over at the lounging green dragon. "But…is it even possible for her to clutch?"

"Elliath has purposely been excluded from learning how to chew firestone," Marra explained. "We believe that, without the firestone to make her sterile, she'll be a decent enough substitute for a queen. Until Teralth has her own daughter, that is."

"I doubt that will ever happen, dear," Polika said, trying not to sound too disappointed about that. "But if Elliath proves suitable for our purposes, S'por and I might consider allowing a few more greens to grow up in the same fashion."

"How can you tell if she'll clutch?" L'valler asked.

Marra moved closer to Elliath's protruding belly, dragging her mate with her, and pointed to the firm, rounded flesh.

"You see that?" she asked. "See how her belly has some lumps in it? Those are eggs. They'd be less prominent in a queen, but Elliath's smaller. There's less room for the eggs to be hidden, so they're pushed right up against the hide. Hm. They seem a bit bigger today than yesterday. Is that good or bad, Polika?"

The Weyrwoman moved closer and touched the green's belly, pushing and poking and prodding. Marra waited while she felt the bulges. Finally, she turned back to them with a smile on her face.

"The lumps are bigger, you say?" she said. "They do seem rather pronounced. It's been nearly three months, so she's about ready to clutch. Teralth agrees. Be ready for it, though, because she might not know what to do as well as a queen would. As soon as she starts acting funny, send her off to the Hatching Grounds. L'valler, have Chith wake Teralth and me. We'll come and help."

Marra's eyes shone, and L'valler put his arm around her waist.

"That's wonderful news," she said happily.

Polika caught her eye and understood the glowing radiance in her face.

"So dragon and rider are about to become mothers," she said. "Congratulations."

Marra thanked her, and after some more pleasantries were exchanged, the Weyrwoman left. L'valler and Marra gave Elliath a final pat before returning to the warmer inner quarters. Marra picked up her knitting off the floor and settled once more onto the couch in front of the fireplace. For a long time, she and L'valler sat in companionable silence.

* * *

_Congrats for reading through that whole big mess. I don't know when I'll be able to update next, but I hope you'll look forward to it._

_As always, please review! I really appreciate that, and it makes it all worthwhile to see what you guys think._

_~Ciao~_


	13. ATTENTION

Hey, everybody. I'm back. I know what you're thinking: "she's here to update!" Well...no. No, I'm not. I recently read over this story, and I've made the decision to completely rework it. It's riddled with errors, plotholes, logic fails, and Mary Sues. It's a hassle to pull it down completely, so I'm just going to leave it. However, **please note this story is, in fact, dead. **I will not update it. I will not rework it. Reviews are still, of course, welcome, but please don't ask for me to continue. I intend to rewrite this story so that it makes sense and has decent characters. If I ever finish it, I will post it as a new story. Until I return, I bid you all a good day. And in case you didn't see it before...

**THIS FANFIC IS DEAD.**


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